forks with which she was laying the tables.

Hercule Poirot said apologetically:

"Excuse me, but could I see the

Manageress ?"

The girl looked at him with lacklustre

eyes.

She said:

"I don't know, I'm sure."

Hercule Poirot said:

"There is no one in the office."

"Well, I don't know where she'd be, I'm

sure."

"Perhaps," Hercule Poirot said, patient and persistent, "you could find out ?" 3i

The girl sighed. Dreary as her day's

round was, it had now been made additionally

so by this new burden laid upon

her. She said sadly:

"Well, I'll see what I can do."

Poirot thanked her and removed himself

once more to the hall, not daring to face

the malevolent glare of the occupants of

the lounge. He was staring up at the baizecovered

letter rack when a rustle and a

strong smell of Devonshire violets proclaimed

the arrival of the Manageress.

Mrs. Harte was full of graciousness. She

exclaimed:

"So sorry I was not in my office. You

were requiring rooms ?"

Hercule Poirot murmured:

"Not precisely. I was wondering if a

friend of mine had been staying here

lately. A Captain Curtis."

"Curtis," exclaimed Mrs. Harte. "Captain

Curtis ? Now where have I heard that

name ?"

Poirot did not help her. She shook her

head vexedly.

He said:

"You have not, then, had a Captain

Curtis staying here ?"

32

"Well, not lately, certainly. And yet, you

know, the name is certainly familiar to me.

Can you describe your friend at all ?"

"That," said Hercule Poirot, "would be

difficult.39 He went on: "I suppose it

sometimes happens that letters arrive for

people when in actual fact no one of that

name is staying here ?"

"That does happen, of course."

"What do you do with such letters ?"

"Well, we keep them for a time. You see,

it probably means that the person in

question will arrive shortly. Of course, if

letters or parcels are a long time here

unclaimed, they are returned to the post

office."

Hercule Poirot nodded thoughtfully.

He said:

"I comprehend." He added: "It is like

this, you see. I wrote a letter to my friend

here."

Mrs. Harte's face cleared.

"That explains it. I must have noticed

the name on an envelope. But really we

have so many ex-Army gentlemen staying

here or passing through— Let me see

now."

She peered up at the board.

. 33

Hercule Poirot said:

"It is not there now.33

"It must have been returned to the

postman, I suppose. I am so sorry. Nothing important, I hope ?"

''No, no, it was of no importance."

As he moved towards the door, Mrs.

Harte, enveloped in her pungent odour of

violets, pursued him.

"If your friend should come --"

"It is most unlikely. I must.have made a

mistake. ..."

"Our terms," said Mrs. Harte, "are very

moderate. Coffee after dinner is included.

I would like you to see one or two of our

bed-sitting-rooms. ..."

With difficulty Hercule Poirot escaped.